The Lies That We Told
by Tanith2011
Summary: An investigation into a violent double homicide in Pearl Harbor leads Five-O into a deadly tangled web of blackmail and deceit. A response to Book 'em Again's The Summer of Mystery Challenge from the Coconut Wireless forum.
1. Prologue

_**AN: This is probably the first time I've tried my hand writing a proper "who-done-it" mystery so I'm not sure how it will turn out. I hope it won't be too horrible and I do invite constructive feedback so I can improve on my faults in future.**_

 _ **For those wonderfully patient readers who have been following "Sweet Little Annie Harper", I've not abandoned it. It is still on hiatus but I am determined to continue it. My muse just has other ideas at the moment and I do apologize for that. Real life has also played a role in my absence and I am just getting back into writing again.**_

 _ **A big thank you goes to "honu59" and "Book 'em Again" for your motivation and inspiration.**_

 _ **Tanith**_

 **Prologue**

Weaving his way through the sea of uniformed HPD officers and forensics team, Steve McGarrett approached his second in command who was crouched down beside one of their latest homicide victims. The Monday morning meeting between Governor Jameson and the head of his elite police unit was cut short when the call came through that a double murder had been committed and that both victims were found in a hotel room in Pearl Harbour.

"Steve, it's Megan Prescott," Dan Williams informed the lead detective as he stared into the vacant bloodshot eyes of a young woman lying on her back with her golden hair fanning around her head. He reached out and brushed his hand over her eyelids to close them.

McGarrett let out a heavy sigh filled with sadness as he looked down at the still form. From where he stood, he could see the tell-tale bruising around the victim's neck and more bruises marked her arms.

Just as Williams pulled the white sheet over the head of Megan Prescott, a commotion could be heard heading their way. He turned his head to find Steve had already placed himself between the body of the deceased and her distraught husband, Officer Connor Prescott.

"Get off me! Let me through!" The anguish in the HPD officer's voice was evident as he barreled his way through the crowd until strong hands gripped him by his upper arms and held him at bay.

"Connor. Connor! Easy, easy." McGarrett tried to calm the distressed officer who struggled to free himself. "There's nothing you can do for her now. Let's just go outside so the boys can do their work and find out who did this to her. Okay?"

"I want to see her, Steve! Please, just…just let me…I have to…." Prescott sobbed, the fight leaving his trembling body.

"Now is not the time." Steve shook his head and continued to firmly steer the man back out into the hallway.

"Damn it, Steve! She's my wife! I have the right to be with her!" Prescott shot back as he backed out of the hotel room.

Once they were in the hallway, Steve held Prescott up against the wall. "I can't imagine how hard this is for you but you have to keep it together. You've been a cop long enough to understand that if I let you in there in the state you are in, we run the risk that you'll contaminate any evidence left behind by the suspect. Think about it. Let the boys gather what they can in there so we can nail the bastard who did this."

"And what am I supposed to do in the mean-time huh?"

Before McGarrett answered Prescott, another officer strode over to them.

"Connor, I don't know what to say, man. I'm so sorry," Officer Langford said breathlessly. Then to the tall Five-O detective he added apologetically, "I tried to keep him from coming in here."

Steve nodded and gave Prescott's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Take him home, Pete, and stay with him. I'll be in touch."

"Right. Come on buddy, let's get you home. There's nothing you can do here." Langford put his arm around his defeated friend's shoulders and pulled him along toward the front entrance of the hotel.

Steve watched them leave then re-entered the room that housed a crime scene he wished never existed. He was met by Dan who motioned for him to an upturned table where a pair of sneakers could be seen poking out from behind the furniture.

"Who's the second victim?" Steve queried.

"Bryan Summers. He's a surfing instructor from Waikiki," Dan surmised.

Steve walked over to the body of a young man who looked to be in his mid-twenties and took in the defensive wounds to his arms and the pool of blood soaking the carpet from under it. "Looks like he put up one hell of a fight."

"Paramedics confirmed he sustained stab wounds to his chest and abdomen but we'll have to wait for the autopsy reports to determine the cause of death," said Dan.

Steve knelt down and scanned over the body, taking mental notes of the injuries that were visible. He reflected back to the body of the first victim and recalled there were ligature marks around her neck which were not present on the second victim.

Dan broke the silence with a theory of what may have transpired. "There could've been more than one suspect involved. One strangled Mrs. Prescott while the other fought and stabbed Mr. Summers."

"It's a possibility. What else can you tell me, Danno?" Steve straightened up and looked around the room. A suitcase lay on the floor beside the bed with its contents spilling out. Various pieces of furniture appeared to be out of place or upended. To the casual observer it looked as if the place had been ransacked.

"There was no sign of forced entry but judging by the state of the place and the fact that both of the victims' purse and wallet are empty of cash, it could be a simple burglary gone wrong," Dan speculated.

While Steve believed Dan made a valid point, his gut found it difficult to accept that this case was anything but simple. "Could be that Mrs. Prescott knew her attacker. Were there any witnesses?"

"No one's come forward yet. Duke and Chin are running through the guest list as we speak."

"And the hotel manager?"

"Kono's with him now."

"Good. Something tells me this isn't some random botched up robbery," Steve said thoughtfully. He scanned the crime scene, his eyes following the dark trail of coagulated blood that stained the carpet from the body to the foot of the closet three feet away. The door of the closet was wide open as if somebody had burst out from within. Someone lying in wait and surprising his unsuspecting victim.

"You think Mrs. Prescott and Mr. Summers were deliberately targeted?" Dan asked.

Steve thought back to Mrs. Prescott's body, realizing something else was bothering him before it quickly dawned on him what it was. Taking into consideration the blood loss Mr. Summers must've suffered, how was it that there was not a spot of blood on Mrs. Prescott's body? There was no sign of blood transference between the victims which meant that Megan must have been the murderer's first victim. "I don't know, Danno. If you were a burglar and the occupants walked in on you, what would be the first thing on your mind?"

Dan thought the question through before answering, "I'd want to get out real quick."

"Exactly. So considering the location of the bodies, the injuries inflicted on them and the absence of blood on Mrs. Prescott's clothing, let us presume that she was the first victim. Why then did her attacker hide in the closet after the attack and how did he know she was expecting company?"

"Good point, Steve, but what if the killer heard someone at the front door before he had a chance to escape?"

Steve nodded thoughtfully, his brows knitted together. "It's a possibility." After a short pause he continued, "And what was Mrs. Prescott doing in a seedy hotel room with Mr. Summers?"

"I was wondering the same thing." Though neither voiced their assumptions out loud, both detectives drew the same conclusion as to how the two victims were related and for the sake of Officer Prescott, they hoped they were wrong. The last thing he needed was to have the state of his marriage questioned when the grieving had barely begun.


	2. Chapter 1

**_AN: Apologies for the delay in updating this story and the others I have seemingly neglected. My overdose on caffeine helped get this posted LOL otherwise RL has just been too crazy that my energy to write these days has been zapped to Narnia ;-) Special thanks goes to all my readers for sticking by me and for continuing to read my stories._**

 ** _Mahalo goes to Book 'em Again for her feedback on the opening chapter of this story. I have made some edits to it according to her helpful suggestions but nothing that alters the plot itself._**

 ** _Tanith_**

* * *

Steve took the mug of coffee from Jenny's grasp, briskly thanked her and continued into his office. Following at his heels were Dan, Kono and Chin. Once the men had filed into the room, Chin closed the door after them.

McGarrett walked over to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk. "Alright, we have two victims. Both are in their mid-twenties and murdered in the same hotel room. Victim number one was strangled and victim number two was stabbed. Official cause of death is yet to be determined and we're still searching for the murder weapons. What else do we know? Kono?"

"Mr. Summers was staying in da room opposite where he was murdered but da hotel manager," Kono paused and flipped open his black note book. "Drake Jensen, said he saw the victims holding hands and go into Prescott's room last night. Said he suspected dey were a couple."

Steve jotted down some notes on the board. "Did he see or hear anything last night or early this morning that was suspicious in nature? Maybe sounds of an argument or a struggle taking place?"

"Negative, boss," said the Hawaiian detective.

Steve let out a sigh of frustration before turning his attention to Chin. "How did you go rounding up potential witnesses?"

Chin shook his head. "Sorry, Steve. So far no one seems to have seen or heard anything."

" _Someone_ must've heard something. The bodies were found by the cleaning lady when she saw the door was ajar shortly before she started her rounds which means there could've been guests that had already checked out. Stay on it, Chin. Go over the guest list again and track down anyone who may have already left before we arrived." Steve turned to Williams. "Danno, I want you to find out everything you can about Mr. Summers, where he lived, if he's single, anything that could help us."

"On it, Steve," said Dan with a curt nod.

"Kono, get in touch with Che and find out if those prints from the hotel room are ready. See if they match anyone with a record. I'll be at the Prescott's if anyone needs to reach me."

One by one the detectives swiftly departed the private office of Five-O's lead detective, each determined to fulfill their duty.

* * *

McGarrett drove through the quiet neighborhood of Waimanu Street and parked his Mercury alongside the curb outside the Prescott residence. The detective exited the car, opened the gate of the white picket fence and followed the paved walkway to a set of steps that led to the front door of the double-storey home. He rang the doorbell. When no one answered, he knocked on the door then called out, "Connor, it's McGarrett!"

Footsteps could be heard from within and the door opened to reveal the disheveled officer in his early thirties. His shirt was untucked and unbuttoned. "Steve, I'm sorry but I just want to be alone right now," said Connor in a voice thick with emotion. He attempted to block the older detective's entry by leaning against the door frame and keeping a firm hold on the edge of the door.

"Where's your partner, Pete?" McGarrett asked, trying to lower Prescott's guard. "I thought he drove you home."

"Yeah he did but I needed some space." Connor lowered his red rimmed eyes and drew in a deep breath. He let go of the door and rubbed the back of his neck.

McGarrett took the opportunity to lean forward, placing a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder and guided him back inside the house. "Let's go inside and I'll make you a coffee." He gently coaxed the defeated looking man.

With a heavy high, Connor showed McGarrett to the kitchen then sat down at the dining table.

Steve filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove to boil.

"What the hell was she doing in that hotel room?" Connor broke his silence. He leaned his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. "She told me she was staying with her ex-roomie, Amelia, for the weekend. She had some extra shifts to cover at the base. Some emergency at the med bay there. I don't know."

McGarrett turned to face the off-duty cop. "Have you spoken to Amelia?"

Connor shook his head. "I haven't even told Megan's parents." Sobbing through his hands, the distraught widower could say no more.

"Easy, easy." McGarrett placed his hand on Prescott's quaking shoulder and tried to offer some level of comfort. He'd only known the officer for a little over two years, having worked on a number of drug smuggling investigations with him during that time, but he had a lot of respect for Prescott's father who died in the line of duty.

"I'm s-sorry. I'm okay," Connor stammered. He wiped his eyes with his hands and drew several shaky breaths then sat back in his seat staring at the wall ahead.

The whistling of the kettle diverted McGarrett's attention. He set about making two cups of coffee and noticed three empty beer bottles sitting on the sink. Well aware of the officer's battle with alcoholism triggered when he lost his father over a year ago, he hoped that the younger man wasn't about to spiral down that path again. It had placed a strain on his marriage before and threatened to put his career with the force in jeopardy. As far as McGarrett knew, the young man had been sober for at least four months. Having just lost another important person in his life, Connor was at his most vulnerable and Steve couldn't help but be concerned for him. Ignoring the bottles, he placed the steaming mug of coffee down on the table in front of Prescott who cast his eyes down to stare at the wooden surface.

"Connor, I know this is still a shock for you but I'm going to need your help to find out who did this to Megan." McGarrett pulled up a chair opposite the grieving cop and sat down. There were questions that he needed answers to and though he knew those answers had the potential to cause more pain, he couldn't allow his personal feelings to influence the course of the investigation.

"Sure, anything. I wanna nail the son-of-a-bitch who did this!" Connor looked up and felt his gut twist at the look in McGarrett's eyes.

"First, you need to be completely honest with me. How strong was your marriage? I know you and Megan had your share of problems but were they resolved?"

"If you're suggesting I had anything to do with…" Prescott snapped and jumped out of his seat, angered by where the question was leading. "I loved her! We were working things out! How could you?"

"Sit down," McGarrett calmly but firmly ordered. "Connor, do you have any reason to believe that Megan was having an affair?"

Grinding his teeth together in an effort to reign in his emotions, Prescott sat back down and ran his hands through his hair, unable to make eye contact with McGarrett.


	3. Chapter 2

_**AN: Just wanted to apologize to my readers who received alerts to say that my update had been posted last night. Unfortunately it disappeared due to technical issues so here it is again. It's a short one, just one scene. I hope to write longer ones when I have more time.**_

 _ **Thank you for reading :-)**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

After tracking down where Bryan Summers worked, Dan entered the surf club that brought back some memories of when he had learnt to surf before he joined Five-O. He walked up to his former surf instructor and mentor, Nick Foster, wishing their reunion had been under different circumstances.

"Danny! It's good to see you kiddo," Foster eagerly greeted the younger man and shook his hand.

"Likewise," Dan returned the warm greeting.

"Look at you in that suit and tie. I still can't get used to it." Foster chuckled good-naturedly, eyeing Dan up and down. It had been several months since they last caught up over a couple of glasses of beer and something told him that today's visit was not of the social kind. "Uh-oh. You have that look on your face. The one that tells me you're here on business."

Dan's smile faded when he caught the slight edge of disappointment in the older man's tone. It also appeared that Nick wasn't aware of his employee's tragic murder. "Unfortunately I am. Could we go inside your office?"

Foster's brow creased with worry. "Sure."

Once the two men were inside the administrative office of the surf club, Foster closed the door behind them and gestured for Dan to take a seat in front of his desk.

"What's going on, Danny?" Foster sat down and studied his former protégé's face.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news about your employee, Bryan Summers," Dan began.

Foster leaned forward in his seat and saw what it was that Dan was trying to say in his eyes. "Oh, no. How? Was it an accident? He'd put it for some time off and I told him to take care on the roads. He wasn't drinking was he?"

"He was murdered in a hotel room in Pearl Harbour sometime last night. His body was found early this morning. I'm sorry, Nick," said Dan.

"Jesus. Murdered? God. Poor kid." Foster shook his head sadly. "I don't believe it. I just spoke to him Friday night. Do his folks know?"

Dan nodded. "They're flying in from the mainland at the next available flight."

Foster sighed heavy-heartedly, trying to digest the news but the shock had left him reeling. Bryan had been working at the club as a surf instructor for the past eight months. His happy-go-lucky personality and positive energy made him popular with the younger kids and with the ladies. He tried to think of anyone who could possibly want to harm the young man but he was still having a hard time accepting the fact that he was dead.

"Nick, I know this is hard but I need to ask you a few questions. If you need some time, I can come back a little later but the sooner we can get through this, the better our chances are of finding out who was responsible," said Dan.

Foster cleared his throat and looked up, meeting Williams' gaze. "What do you need to know?"

"Can you think of anyone with whom Bryan may have had a falling out or can you tell me if he had a run-in with someone recently?"

Foster shook his head. "No, nothing like that. He was well liked." The moment the words left his mouth, something tugged at the club manager's memory. "Wait. There is this one guy. Big. Hawaiian. His kid sister started hanging around the club not long after Bryan started out and she signed up for some lessons. She had a crush on him. Everybody could see it. Bryan brushed it off but her brother took a dislike to him and started hassling him about leading her on and things got heated."

"Did he make any threats that you are aware of?" Dan took out his note book and started taking down notes.

"Yeah, the usual threats of using Bryan as a punching bag but nothing that made me believe at the time that Bryan's life was in imminent danger."

"What's the guy's name?" Dan asked.

"Sam Kapua. His sister's name is Lina."

"Is there anything else you can tell me about Bryan that might help?"

"I don't know if this will help but he has a girlfriend. I don't know her well."

Dan's attention perked up. He wondered if the girlfriend was the second victim. "Do you know her name?"

"Amy Montague. She lives in the apartment block on South Street," Foster said slowly. He noted the slight change in Dan's demeanor but refrained from questioning the young man. "Someone should tell her what happened."

"I'll take care of it. One more question. Do you know a Megan Prescott?

Foster mulled over Dan's question before answering, "No, I can't say that I do. What does she have to do with Bryan's murder?"

"We don't know yet." Dan decided now was not the time to divulge the details of how Bryan was found in the same room that Megan was staying in and that both were violently murdered. It could do more harm to the case than good. "Listen, Nick, you've been a great help. Thank you."

Foster nodded. "Wish I could tell you more but I just can't think straight right now."

"I understand. Do you still have my number?"

"Of course."

"Good. If you remember anything else, anything at all, give me a call, alright?"

"Sure."

Dan bade his friend good bye and started for the door.

"Danny?"

The sandy-haired detective stopped in his tracks and turned around.

"Catch the bastard who did this."

Dan nodded thoughtfully and left the office feeling as though he had just made a silent promise he needed to keep.


	4. Chapter 3

_**AN: Apologies for the lengthy delay in updating this. Thank you to my readers for being so patient and understanding.**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Chewing on the last portion of his sandwich, Kono Kalakaua waited for the forensics expert to return to his office with what he hoped would be some positive results from his team. The look on Che Fong's face when he at last walked through the door said otherwise.

"Dat don't look like good news, Bruddah," Kono commented, as Che handed him a manila folder.

"Unfortunately, most of the prints are too smudged for us to work with. It appears that someone made an effort to clean up the surfaces and while they appeared to be in a hurry they nevertheless contaminated the samples we were able to lift," Che explained.

Kono sighed and opened the manila folder. His eyes lit up when he found something that had to have the potential of moving the investigation in the right direction. "Ya found da murder weapons?" He looked up at Che, seeking confirmation.

Che nodded. "Yes, we did. We found a bloody pocket knife in the trash. It was wrapped in a dish towel along with a length of cord from a telephone which may have been the weapon used to strangle the female victim."

"Let me guess. No prints?" Kono cut in.

"I wish I could tell you differently," said Che. "The moment we find anything more, I'll be in touch."

Kono thanked the forensic specialist and left the office to return to the Iolani Palace.

* * *

McGarrett leaned forward in his seat and repeated the question. "I'll ask you again. Do you have any reason to believe that your wife was having an affair?"

Prescott drew a deep unsteady breath before answering, "There was a time I suspected she was but like I said, we were working things out!"

"Do you know who it was that you had suspected of having an affair with Megan?"

Connor shifted in his seat. "No. No, I don't."

McGarrett caught Prescott's hesitation and didn't need a Polygraph to see the man was lying. "How long ago was this?"

"Four, six months. I don't know. What difference does it make? All that matters is what happened to her last night."

"Aright, let's talk about last night. What time did you leave the house?"

Prescott slammed his hand down on the table. "Oh I get it. So now I'm the suspect? Come on, Steve! I just lost the love of my life!"

"You know that I have to ask these questions," McGarrett shot back. He needed to gain control of the delicate situation, not just to defuse Prescott's anger but to find a starting point for the investigation. While he hoped that Prescott was not involved in such a heinous crime, he had to remain objective. "The quicker we can get through this, the more time I'll have to find the real killer."

"Pete picked me up seven. We grabbed a quick bite to eat before we went out on patrol around the University. Some kids had been hanging around making trouble since the protest a few days ago. Things got crazy after that and we got called to other locations but you can check that out with Pete. Are we done?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, we're done for now. If you can think of anything that might help, call me, alright?"

Prescott gave a non-committal response and stayed in his seat as McGarrett let himself out of the house.

* * *

Chin Ho Kelly scribbled down some notes in his book as he listened to the two tourists recount what they had seen that morning just before they had checked out of their hotel room. It had taken some time for him to track the couple down. Fortunately the hotel manager, Drake Jensen, recalled they had mentioned they were going to be spending the day at a nearby art gallery and the museum. Chin had missed them at the gallery but had caught up with the pair at the museum. "And neither of you got a good look at the man?"

"No, he pushed straight past us in the hall and out the front entrance but he was built like an ox and could've been Hawaiian but we can't be certain," the man answered.

"Can you describe what he was wearing?"

"Sorry I don't…wait! I do remember. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Yes, a blue and green one and a pair of tan pants."

"I see. Thank you, that's very helpful." Chin took down the description then addressed the woman sitting beside the man. "Mrs. Butler, did you notice anything unusual when you walked by room two-O-nine?" Chin turned his attention to the woman.

"I saw the door was slightly ajar and I could hear movement but I wasn't suspicious at the time. I figured whoever was inside must've been getting ready to check out too," Mrs. Butler shrugged then chewed at her lower lip, feeling a pang of guilt that she couldn't be of more help.

"What time would you say it was?" Chin prodded.

Mrs. Butler exchanged looks with her husband.

"It would've been before eight. We wanted to get to the gallery when it opened at nine so we had a quick breakfast on the way at a diner and left there around half past eight," Mr. Butler replied. He looked to his wife for confirmation.

Mrs. Butler nodded. "Yes, I remember looking at a clock at the diner. It was just after eight when we placed our order."

"Thank you for your time, Mr and Mrs. Butler. You've both been a great help," Chin reassured the couple with a smile. While he still didn't have enough information to form a lead, it was better than nothing and he wanted the husband and wife to know how much he appreciated their willingness to help with the investigation. "If anything else comes to mind, here's my number." He passed his business card to Mr. Butler then shook their hands and wished them an enjoyable vacation.

Stowing the black note book back into his jacket pocket, the Oriental detective watched the couple as they walked out of the cafeteria hand in hand to continue their tour of the museum. With a sigh, Chin decided a coffee to go was in order before he made his way back to the office. Half the day was already through and with very little in the way of progress, he was not looking forward to the afternoon briefing.


	5. Chapter 4

_**AN: Apologies for the delay in updating. I hope everyone had a fantastic start to the New Year. All the best for 2016!**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

The sun had already begun to make its descent by the time the detectives regrouped at the Iolani Palace. Once every member of Five-O had had their turn collating all the evidence they had gathered thus far, Steve added the information at hand to the blackboard then began pacing the interior of his office.

"I still have two more people on my list to see. Sam Kapua and his sister, Lina Kapua," informed Dan.

Steve sighed and leaned against his desk with his arms crossed. "It's late. Get to them first thing tomorrow." Turning his attention to the Hawaiian detective, he added, "Kono, I need you to get in touch with Che in the morning. See if he's found anything else we could work on then go back to the crime scene. Maybe there's something we've missed."

"I'll get on it, Boss," Kono complied.

Steve looked at his second in command as a thought occurred to him. "Danno, when you broke the news of her boyfriend's death, how did Miss Montague take it?"

Dan took a moment to allow his mind to take him back to the apartment. "She was genuinely upset. Said she couldn't think of anyone who wanted to harm Bryan. They'd had a steady relationship for two years but there was something that struck me as a little odd."

"What is it, Danno?" Steve pressed.

"According to Amy, they lived together, yet there was nothing in the apartment that showed he did. When I got there, she made me take off my shoes. I noticed there was only women's footwear by the door. I also used the bathroom while I was there and I only saw one toothbrush on the sink. She doesn't strike me as someone who would share her toothbrush with anyone," Dan supplied.

"Then she is either lying about their living arrangements or there's been a change in their relationship recently and he moved out," Chin pondered aloud.

"Whatever the case, gentlemen, she's not being entirely forthcoming and we need to find out why and what this could mean to the investigation," said Steve, coming to a standstill from his pacing. "Chin, dig up what you can about Amy Montague. Talk to her family, her friends, anyone who can tell us more about her relationship with Bryan. We might be able to build a better picture using an outsider's perspective."

"Will do, Steve," Chin nodded.

The phone rang and Steve snatched up the receiver. "McGarrett." Bergman's greeting on the other line was rewarded by the detective's undivided attention. "What have you got Doc?"

The M.E relayed the autopsy report over the phone, using simplified terms that he hoped McGarrett would understand. _"Cause of death for the male victim, Bryan Summers, is cardiac arrest. One of the wounds was situated close to his heart. An artery was severed. He would have bled to death had his heart not given out. The female victim, Megan Prescott, died from asphyxiation by strangulation. There's evidence of blunt force trauma to the back of her head which she may have received after being struck with a hard object. Maybe even the floor had she fallen."_

"Thanks, Doc."

" _Wait, Steve, there's more."_

"What is it?"

" _Megan was pregnant. She was three months in."_

Steve looked up and met the gaze of the others as they eagerly waited for him to relay what the phone call entailed.

"I see. I appreciate your call, Doc," Steve thanked the doctor once more before ending the call. "Megan was pregnant," He revealed to the team.

* * *

Sam Kapua watched as the flames danced in the trash can, burning through the fibres of the fabric and disintegrating what was once his Aloha shirt and pair of pants. Though the smoke made him feel sick, he stood idly by, wanting to make sure that all that was going to be left of the offending items of clothing were ashes. He held up his hands, turning them over in the fire light. They were clean. He sighed. He thought back to the events of the day starting with what happened in the hotel room then he reflected on how angry he was last night. He cursed his temper. He had cursed the haole who had instilled such fury that caused him to do what he did. If only his sister had listened and stayed away from him! No, he wasn't going to lay the blame on her. _She is young. Naïve. Innocent_. _Oh, Lina, why him?_ Sam buried his face in his hands. No matter how much he had scrubbed them with soap and water, he could still smell the blood through his fingers. _Why did I go to that hotel room? I should have stayed away._


	6. Chapter 5

_**AN: Thank you to all my readers who are following this story so far. Due to time constraints, chapters are not going to be very long but I do hope you will continue to enjoy what I am able to roll out.**_

 _ **Tanith**_

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

The following morning Dan awoke to the ringing of his telephone. He reached across the bed, knocked over his alarm clock and fumbled with the receiver. It was early and he had had a troubled sleep.

"Hello?" He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and listened to the familiar voice on the other line.

"Danny, it's Nick. Sorry I woke you," Nick Foster apologized.

Dan sat upright as he noted the urgency in his former mentor's tone. "What is it, Nick?"

"I just had a visit from a cop and something in my gut was telling something about him was off but he had his badge and I know you guys are working around the clock on this case and I also want to do everything I can to help…"

"Whoah, hold on a minute," Dan forestalled the surf club manager as his fuzzy mind slowly processed what he was trying to tell him. "Okay, who came to visit you? You have his name, right?"

"Yeah, something Prescott. Connor. Yeah, Officer Connor Prescott. He was askin' me some questions and it didn't occur to me at the time that I'd already answered them when you came round. I mean, you guys share all the information you gather and have access to all the evidence right? I just thought it was a waste of time to ask the same things over and over again. He seemed kinda edgy too," Foster said.

Warning bells immediately rang in Dan's head and all sense of clarity replaced the fuzziness that was there a moment ago. "Listen, Nick, I appreciate you telling me about this. I'll look into it and have a word with Officer Prescott. I'm sorry you had to go through the interview a second time."

"I don't want to cause any trouble. You guys get a lot of pressure to work on your cases as it is."

"You're not. I'm glad you told me. When did Prescott see you?"

"He left just before I called you."

"Alright. I know you probably don't want to sound like a broken record, but I need you to tell me exactly what you told the officer."

"Okay, uh." The was a sigh and a momentary pause before Foster listed all the things he could remember telling the cop who interviewed him. "I think that was all he asked me and I told him everything I knew."

Dan was deeply troubled by the time Nick had finished relaying all that he had been filling Prescott in on. He noticed that the one name that never got mentioned was Megan's and it was obvious why. He was glad, though, that Nick didn't sound like he remembered her surname or else it probably would cause more reasons for him to be concerned and for him to ask the kinds of questions that Dan was not prepared to answer. Unfortunately, there was one piece of critical information that Nick did divulge which Dan wished he hadn't and that was the names of two persons of interests. Two people he had on his list to interview later that day. Sam Kapua and his sister Lina.

"If he contacts you again, let me know. You've done nothing wrong and you've been a great help," Dan continued to reassure his friend despite feeling uneasy himself.

"Thanks, Danny. I feel better now that I've called you."

"Take care, Nick."

Dan hung up the phone and hastily got changed. His alarm clock rang shrilly from where he had left it on the floor. Quickly turning it off, he threw it on the still un-made bed. There was no time to shower or shave or even have a coffee but there was one thing he wanted to do before he left his apartment. He picked up the receiver of the telephone and dialed Steve's home number, hoping that he would catch him before the head detective had left for the office. He let the phone ring several times before accepting that Steve had already left. He picked up his notebook and checked Sam Kapua's address then stowed it in his pocket. Grabbing his keys, he locked up his apartment and hurried down the stairs. He hoped that Prescott hadn't already done something reckless but all the scenarios that played in his mind were disconcerting and the possibility that he was going to be too late weighed heavily on his shoulders.


	7. Chapter 6

_**AN: Apologies for the delay in getting this story updated. Thank you for continuing to read this tale.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

Dan had put the pedal to the metal as he tore down the streets on his way to Sam Kapua's house. Under ordinary circumstances he would have called HPD for back-up but with a fellow office's career on the line, he felt obligated to give the man a chance to not give him a reason to call the cavalry. Prescott was, after all, a friend of Steve's and Danny respected that friendship. He just hoped that he wasn't about to respond to a situation that would cost Prescott more than just his career.

When he finally drew alongside the Kapua residence, Dan noticed Prescott's vehicle parked in the drive. Cursing under his breath, he hurriedly exited his LTD and raced up the short flight of steps to the front door which was ajar. Dan stood to the side, drew out his pistol and cautiously pushed the door open inward. With his gun raised in front of him, the detective stepped over the threshold and scanned the interior of the modest home. There was little in the way of natural lighting from the sunrise filtering through the windows as the thick curtains were drawn shut. Taking small breaths, Dan continued to search the property for signs of life. When he crept down the hall, a movement from the corner of his eye triggered his reflexes. With his gun held at the ready, he held his breath and swung to his right. He found himself facing the gleaming barrel of another service revolver.

"Williams! What the hell are you doing here?" Prescott hissed.

Dan allowed the breath he'd been holding to expel from his lungs. "I was going to ask you the same thing!" He whispered back.

A noise alerted both men that they were not alone.

Dan placed a finger to his lips in a gesture of silence but Prescott had other ideas. Instead, he rushed toward the direction of the noise leaving the Five-O second-in-command behind.

Dan raced after the officer who had a well-built young Hawaiian man in his sights.

"Stop! Police!" Prescott hollered to the fleeing youth as he barreled out the back door. "Damn it!" He holstered his gun as the man he suspected to be Sam Kapua climbed over a fence. In hot pursuit, Prescott didn't hesitate to follow suit with Dan Williams close at his heels.

The foot chase carried across two blocks with all three men weaving between obstacles, cutting through neighboring properties and finally ending in an alleyway where an out of breath Kapua tripped and fell over some trash cans.

"On your feet!" Prescott dragged Kapua to his feet and slammed him faced first up against the brick wall. He fumbled for his cuffs but his hands were shaking so badly from the adrenaline rush and lack of sleep that he dropped them. Kapua twisted himself free and shoved the officer away from him but he didn't get very far when another man barred his path, pointing a gun at his chest.

"Five-O, hold it right there!" Dan ordered breathlessly.

* * *

Prescott paced the grey floor of the room that was located adjacently to where the interrogation was held at HPD headquarters. Despite his insistence that he be present during the questioning, Chief Dann had vehemently denied him access. Instead, a one-way mirror separating him from Williams and Kapua was the closest he was going to get. Through the speakers, he could hear the interrogation taking place and much to his frustration, Williams seemed to be getting nowhere with his methods of questioning. The door opened and Steve McGarrett's tall frame dressed in a crisp navy blue suit walked into the room with deliberate strides.

"I gotta get in there, Steve!" Prescott said urgently.

McGarrett shook his head. "Connor, you're lucky to be even in this room."

"That punk is the only solid lead we have and Williams is wasting time! Get me in there, Steve! I'll make the bastard talk!" Prescott snapped.

Steve's glare silenced the officer long enough for him to have his say. "Firstly, the only person who wasted not just my time but the whole department's, is you!"

"Now wait a…" Prescott protested but was promptly cut off.

"I'm not finished. You were supposed to be on compassionate leave. What the hell were you doing at that house?" McGarrett demanded.

"I was doing your job!" Prescott snapped angrily.

Steve had had enough. Connor's insubordination and lack of self-control had to end right there. "I asked you a question. What were you doing in Sam Kapua's house?" He repeated in a dangerous tone that demanded nothing short of a reasonable and fast explanation.

"Trying to find my wife's killer!"

Steve released a sigh, and tried to lay it out to Prescott as calmly as the storm within him would allow, "You know better than to inject yourself into an investigation that has a personal connection to you. Megan's murder is as close to home as it gets."

Prescott could no longer find the words to form his defense. "So, what now?" He brushed a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Chief Dann wants to see you in his office. Now," Steve replied, a tinge of sadness creeping into his voice. There was no comfort he could offer his friend to reduce the severity of the repercussions that came with his actions.


End file.
